


cage (of your mind)

by WithYourRhythm



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blood and Gore, Day 7, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, KakaObi Week 2019, M/M, Past Character Death, Solitude, mentions of interrogation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 03:30:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17717222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithYourRhythm/pseuds/WithYourRhythm
Summary: You took his eye,he sobs one time,his legacy! He wanted to see the future-!She felt like wind,he murmurs another day,or the earth after rain when she was sad. Maybe a storm, if she was feeling vicious.Her anger was like raging ocean,Obito agrees, half of his body mingled and bloody, both of his eye sockets empty,and her love healed better than her hands.A shame,his father sighs,I would've loved to meet her. She seemed like a nice girl when I came to pick you up back at academy.





	cage (of your mind)

**Author's Note:**

> KakaObi Week 2019, Day 7: Solitude
> 
> Well, watch me juggle between the event stuff and my own entries.

The door closes with a loud bang, no light left in the room. It’s a dark whisper that echoes from the walls, the deadly stillness waiting of any movement, and disappointment is a deep scar that burns into Kakashi’s left eye, closed so that he loses no more chances of escaping while being foolishly hopeful.

 

He feels a tremor traveling through his whole body, his hands cold and painted with the blood of his friend, acquaintance, _something._ He doesn’t know what she is _-was-_ for him, couldn’t understand the closeness of their relationship ever since that cave-in left him with one eye of his and one of his dead teammate, a legacy he has to carry to the future with hopes of being forgiven just a little. Though, that’s impossible now, with the girl who had big dreams, bloodied hands and tear tracks on her cheeks, as dead as his first friend- or foe, rival, _something,_ who knows who he was for Kakashi once upon a time? They were his teammates, but what else?

 

 _A promise,_ he murmurs, and he doesn’t know if he’s talking or thinking or _hearing_ anymore, _one little promise._

 

_(“Where is my little baby-”_

 

_“-I’ll see you soon, cub-”_

 

_“-retreat, this is an order-”_

 

_“-take my eye-”_

 

_“-Kakashi-!”)_

 

A spiral of deaths follow him, brought by the promises that carry no importance but still powerful, and he knows that he’s the one who should’ve been called as traitor, the one under that boulder, with his name not even worthy enough to be engraved on the Memorial Stone, just beside the names of those who died during a mission for their own village’s safety, the honorable ones with a sense of loyalty and _humanity._

 

 _Take your lies and go away,_ he whispers to the old warmonger that’s standing right in front of his cell, and he dreams of another warmonger that night, who has one red eye and a hand painted with blood, an ANBU mask on his face, asking for the legacy and secrets of Kakashi's long dead teammate with no shame. _You have no place beside my mistakes when there’s this much blood on your hands. Let me keep my memories to myself._

 

And the smiles, those cold, terrible, _warm_ smiles they give him when they visit him while proudly wearing the mark of the village that destroyed him and his everything, _wait a little more, Kakashi! I’ll get you out of there, it’s only the two of us left now-_

 

 _Stop lying,_ he wants to say, _you’re no different than them, you’re just after my secrets, my past-_

 

But he doesn’t have a voice anymore, and he turns his head to the other side, not giving up even with the pain moving brings him, with more blood pouring from his injuries.

 

 _This is nothing,_ father says, looming next to him, _next to the nightmares you’ve put your teammates through. Hang on just a little more, cub._

 

Kakashi smiles to him, another dead person from his long gone family. _Father,_ who has a silver heart instead of gold that everybody loves, who knows what he is, what he wants, what he _feels._ Kakashi respects him for that, because he never managed to be someone but his village’s tool unlike his precious, unfortunate father, and it’s a cruel truth, but he is only the shadow of dead people, becoming their last remnants on this earth.

 

He still prefers his long dead father because he is silver, unlike sensei, who is more gold than silver, shining brilliantly in darkness, or maybe he’s coal, ready to burn with everything he has. Father does not have that bright spark, but a caring smile never leaves his face when he’s with Kakashi. He’s sharp, both while loving and fighting, ragged-edged, soft hearted when he wants, a true samurai in the heart even though he studies the art of chakra just like all other shinobi. He is a steady man, not indestructible, but he knows how to flow with the current, and he is-

 

He is a father, his calloused hand resting on his son’s head, a foolish smile on his lips, and Kakashi’s chest _burns_ with regret. He wishes to see his father one more time, to apologize and say that he should’ve been loyal to him, shouldn’t have turned his back to him because of the shame other people brought upon his shoulders when he did nothing to deserve it. Kakashi wishes, and wishes again-

 

The door stays closed. Warmonger keeps coming, asking for his secrets, and Kakashi keeps refusing, not bending under neither the blade of his, or his subordinates’, his own blood and mess painting the ground more with every passing day, and he can’t think of anything except the ghosts he sees, the pain he feels.

 

 _You took his eye,_ he sobs one time, _his legacy! He wanted to see the future-!_

 

 _She felt like wind,_ he murmurs another day, _or the earth after rain when she was sad. Maybe a storm, if she was feeling vicious._

 

 _Her anger was like raging ocean_ , Obito agrees, half of his body mingled and bloody, both of his eye sockets empty, _and her love healed better than her hands._

 

 _A shame,_ his father sighs, _I would’ve loved to meet her._ _She seemed like a nice girl when I came to pick you up back at academy._

 

Kakashi laughs, blood dripping from his chin, and his _-not his, never his-_  red eye sheds tears that he doesn’t feel on his face.

 

 _Snap out of it,_ a voice yells from the back of his mind, _Kakashi, come on! Please… I’ll get you out of here._

 

A face, never as developed as this in his dreams, half of it full of scars that should’ve been bloody, raw wounds, appears in front of him. Tears keep spilling from one red eye, sliding right on the bumpy scars on the face, and Kakashi laughs at the cruelty of this.

 

 _He would look like this,_ he sobs, _if he got a chance to live, wouldn’t he?_

 

 _What have they done to you?_ The face tightens with sadness and anger, _how can I stay with him when you’re here-!_

 

Kakashi laughs and laughs.

 

After all, Obito is dead.

 

( _I am getting you out of this place,_ Obito whispers, a lot older and darker than the last time Kakashi heard him, supposedly forever stuck in that youthful but bloody corpse, _forget his plans and this cursed village. I’ll never let them touch you again._

 

Kakashi stops laughing, and there are fresh tears on his cheeks. He loses his breath as an old, almost forgotten scent that’s a lot sharper and has a hint of forest and secrets in it sneaks upon his senses, and he sobs with gratitude, because he is tired, so very tired with the corpses that do not vanish from his vision, and after everything, he is finally _grieving.)_


End file.
